Tending Her Wounds
by madiamazing
Summary: How could one so absolutely, perfectly beautiful feel as if she were not? Christine feels insecure, so Erik comforts her. Modern AU. One-shot.


**This one is for my dear, wonderful friend Meg (operaofthephantom on tumblr). Love you, Meggy. :)**

 **There are some sexual references in this, but it's not smutty or anything so I think a T rating should be fine. Let me know if you think otherwise.** **As always, please review.**

 **Oh, and happy holidays! :D**

* * *

 _ **~Tending Her Wounds~**_

He had seen tears of joy in the dear girl's eyes before. Usually when her singing reached new heights that she'd never thought possible, or when his own strange voice overwhelmed her with its powerful, hypnotic quality. But he'd never seen those deep blue orbs cry tears of pure, agonized sadness. He had not even thought it possible for the one who brought so much light into his dark, pitiful life could experience such a thing. That is, until today.

When Christine entered his home for her voice lesson, he rose from the piano bench to greet her and froze at what he saw. Her brunette curls that usually flowed like a silky waterfall about her cherubic face were messily pulled into a ball atop her head, held in place by a large clip. She wore dull colored clothing that hung loose around her womanly curves, and not a trace of makeup adorned her pale face. Those beautiful eyes that seemed to haunt his every thought these days were red rimmed and puffy, bloodshot and tear filled.

His stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch at her heartbreaking expression, his heart squeezing in pain. When she met his amber eyes, she attempted a small smile, which only lasted a second before she burst into sobs, burying her face in her hands.

 _Oh, no._

Erik approached Christine hastily, but then paused when he was a couple feet away. She would not want one as ghastly as he to comfort her, would she? Still, he could not stop himself from resting his boney hands on her shuddering shoulders, using as little pressure as possible. "Christine?" he choked. "What is wrong? What has happened?"

She eventually looked up at his masked face from where he towered over her, her pink lips trembling. "Oh, Erik," she whispered. "He was…I saw…they… _oh,_ Erik!"

She could not even manage a full sentence! Sick with worry, Erik tried to be soothing as he shushed Christine and led her with a light hand on her upper back to the sofa across the room. She went willingly, and then tearfully asked for some water. He obliged quickly and stood awkwardly in front of her while she drank from the glass, pausing every few seconds to take shuddering breaths.

"Thank you," she rasped when the glass was empty, and Erik took it and set it on the end table.

"You will tell me what is wrong this instant," he demanded, still standing in front of her.

"It's stupid," she mumbled, staring at her limp hands in her lap. "I'm… _I'm_ stupid."

Erik groaned, his fists clenching at his sides. "What? Christine, _please._ " She sighed and met his wild gaze, biting her lip a moment.

"Will you sit?" she asked, gesturing to the spot next to her. He swallowed, considering. Being close to her was…difficult. Her magnetic pull only intensified in closer proximity, and it wouldn't do to frighten her when she was already so upset. However, she _did_ ask him…

It took a moment before he could move, but he eventually did. He could not deny her when she was so emotionally fragile. He sat next to her, but not without putting as much space between them as possible. She would not want him so close. He faced her, and demanded her again to tell him what was wrong, a tremor in his voice this time for being so near her warmth.

Erik could tell she was trying very hard not to weep again as she began her tale. "It's my boyfriend…well, _ex_ -boyfriend now, Ryan. He…he cheated on me." Erik froze, his lips curling in disgust, and she went on almost numbly. "I was going to surprise him yesterday with his Christmas present early, but when I walked into his apartment-" She stopped suddenly, choking up and then taking a deep breath. "He was…with a girl. They were-" she broke off with a sob, rubbing her temples as if she could will the images to be erased from her memory.

It was easy to guess what she saw.

Erik quivered with anger and grief. For one, the girl he was desperately in love with cried over a _boy._ The most idiotic boy in the world at that, it seemed. He could very easily and happily track the boy down and torture him, laugh as he screamed and begged for mercy, all because he hurt dear, perfect Christine.

And then, seeing her in so much pain was awful. Horrid. He felt sick.

"He is an imbecile," Erik spluttered. "I could…I shall kill him. Do not try to stop me, my dear, my mind is made up."

He made to get up, but was stopped by the sweetest sensation of her small hands clutching his arm through his dress shirt. He froze, and the girl looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. "Please don't go anywhere right now," she begged. "I know you're protective of me, but I just can't be alone. I need you with me." Her voice broke on the last word, and he stared at her face with wide, golden eyes. She…needed _him_? And she was still touching his arm. Touching _him._

With a shaky sigh, Christine looked away from his intense stare. "What gets me the most is how…well, Ryan and I never did _that._ " Her cheeks heated, and Erik's heart gave a painful squeeze at the insanely lovely sight. She babbled on, seeming to forget with whom she was speaking to. She'd certainly never been so open with Erik before. "Which is fine, I mean…it's not like I ever initiated it. But neither did he. Aren't guys supposed to want that sort of thing with their girlfriends?"

Erik grunted uncomfortably, and Christine went on. "Well, obviously he wanted it. Just…not with me." She shrugged and sniffled, and Erik was very close to shouting at her for being so absurd. But suddenly, she gasped.

"Oh my god," she moaned, shutting her eyes in humiliation. "I am being totally inappropriate. I'm so sorry, Erik. I don't know what I'm even thinking today."

Her lower lip trembled again, and he patted one of her hands in awkward reassurance, trying to ignore how his cold fingers burned where they touched her. "Do not apologize, my dear." Oh, how the contact his ghostly skin made with hers filled him with that all too familiar, pained longing. He should not have allowed himself to touch her.

Well, at least she did not shrink away in horror. No, she seemed grateful for the contact. How odd. "Though it baffles me how you would think _you_ are the problem," he added after a moment.

"I know he's a jerk," she muttered in response. "And I'm more upset over the situation than him. I think I always knew we weren't right for each other." She glanced at Erik briefly, and a tinge of pink colored her cheeks. It puzzled him. And then, just as quickly she was avoiding his gaze and continuing her lament. "But still, I can't help but thinking…why would he just…have sex with some tall, skinny blonde girl I've never seen before when he never even _tried_ with me? Does that mean…what if…Erik, what if I'm not desirable?"

Erik barked out a laugh at that, and Christine gaped at him, confused. He stifled his laughter, clearing his throat. "Pardon me," he said. "I simply have never heard something so atrocious come out of your mouth, Christine."

"W-what do you mean, Erik?"

"Are you really so ignorant? Do you honestly have no idea of your affect on…on men?" _Your affect on me,_ he'd almost said. He'd luckily caught himself in time. "My god, Christine. You really are naïve." He chuckled again, and could not resist patting her messy hair, wishing she'd release it from its clip.

She thought pensively for a moment, and then her shimmering eyes looked up at him again. "If that's true, then why hasn't anyone shown me? Why can't someone just show me that they want me?" Her grip tightened on his arm, and she inched closer to him, likely not realizing she did so.

Erik swallowed. _He_ could show her. He could show her right now just how badly he wanted her. Ah, but she would not like that. She would want some handsome, experienced man to comfort her, and Erik was anything but those two things. But her eyes…those shining blue eyes staring into his soul were wide and hopeful and…almost _begging_ him for something! For what? It couldn't be…but she was leaning closer to him…

"Erik," she whispered, and it sounded like a question. The moment after seemed to stretch on for an eternity, her breath fanning his exposed mouth and chin, her closeness radiating around him, her lovely eyes pleading with him, pulling him in…and then…

He answered.

With a low moan from deep in his throat, Erik crushed his thin, dry lips onto her plump, moist ones, his entire body shaking. He had never kissed a woman before in his life, and if he were not so mad with love and lust for the sweet girl before him he might have remembered to be gentle, or at least attempt to be graceful with it. But all he could think in the moment was _her._ Her lips, her—dare he think— _responding_ lips, her hands clutching his shirt, pulling him _closer_ to her…?

He must be out of his mind.

Gasping for breath, Erik pulled away and shot up from the sofa, waiting for her horrific screams to pierce his ears. Facing away from her, he checked that his mask was in place with trembling fingers, then ran them through his black hair, still waiting for her to shout, cry, faint…anything.

All he heard after a long moment was her soft, questioning voice: "Erik?"

He forced himself to turn and face her, and was shocked to find that there was no horror on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths, but her eyes were bright with…something other than terror.

No. It couldn't be.

"You…you must forgive me, my dear," he rasped. "You are just so, so beautiful and it made me ill to see you think otherwise and, well I seem to have deluded myself into thinking you _wanted_ me to do it and-"

Christine stood and went to him, taking one of his hands in hers. Such softness against his papery skin…

"I did want you to," she said, looking up at him. "You…you really think I'm beautiful, Erik?"

The hopefulness in her sweet voice nearly undid him. He could not hold back now; he touched her face with his free hand. Her eyes fluttered closed at the contact, a sigh leaving her lips. "You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, my dear girl. I have…I have never wanted anything more."

He was shocked at his own admission, but she opened her eyes and smiled then, and _oh,_ it was such a lovely sight that twisted his stomach and very nearly caused him to fall to his knees.

"Oh, Erik," she whispered. "I want you too."

That actually _did_ cause him to fall to his knees. Erik's breath left him, making him feel dizzy as his legs shook and buckled beneath him. The next thing he knew, Christine's was kneeling too, a sweet smile on her full lips. It couldn't be…she couldn't…but she was leaning in again…and…

Her lips touched his, her soft hands running along his thin hair, and he could feel his heart trying its very hardest to burst through his chest. He could also feel wetness escaping from his eyes, which were now shutting in order to savor the feeling of Christine kissing him. Those perfect lips parted for a moment, and he dared to further taste her, dipping his tongue inside. Her tongue found his, and she emitted a sound that set his blood boiling.

Erik feared for his control as he hastily removed the clip in her hair and greedily ran his fingers through the curls. He held her tightly to him and kissed her quite roughly, knowing in the back of his head he should calm down before he really lost himself in her. But there was no complaint from Christine, and she continued to return his kiss with soft, eager lips and tongue, her hands clutching his shoulders.

She had to break away to gasp for air after a while, but his mouth could not leave her skin. He kissed her jaw and neck, occasionally murmuring into her ear how much he wanted her, how beautiful she was. Her answering moans continued to sear him, and he held her so tight that he could feel the shape of her against him. His hands roamed along her back and sides, and he could have wept at the feel of her, even over her baggy clothes. She was perfection, and he told her that.

He heard her breath hitch at his words, and he pulled away to see moisture flooding her eyes once again. But before he could be horrified at the tears, he realized that the smile on her face was one of pure joy.

"You really think so?" she asked.

"I do not think," Erik said adamantly. "I know."

Christine laughed breathlessly for a moment, and then crushed him to her in a tight embrace, burying her face in his chest. They held one another like that, both of them kneeling on the floor, for an immeasurable amount of time. Even when his legs ached from discomfort, he didn't dare move. He would stay here in her arms forever if he got the chance.

"Thank you," her muffled whisper eventually broke the silence.

"For what, my dear?"

"Making me feel beautiful."

Erik gently pulled away just enough to cup her face in his hands, brushing away the remaining wetness with his thumbs. "You _are_ ," he told her in a whisper. "So very beautiful."

Christine surged forward and kissed him again, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, and Erik thought he might burst. However, just as quickly, she pulled away, her smile breathtaking, her flushed cheeks lovely. "Sorry," she giggled. "I'm getting a little carried away."

"Me too, I am afraid," he rasped. His fingers twitched to touch her more, so he thought of another way to occupy them. He nodded toward the piano. "Shall I play something?"

She nodded eagerly, grinning. "Will you sing, too? Please?"

"If you wish."

"I do."

They sat at the bench side by side, her arm around his thin waist and her head leaning on his shoulder as he played and sang. He could never remember a time when his Christine looked so happy, so peaceful.

One thing he knew for certain was _he_ had ever felt those things more.


End file.
